


And I Saw the Future Staring Back

by steelneena



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen, takes place during Season 2.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 06:17:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5153360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelneena/pseuds/steelneena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Nealfire Exchange on tumblr. This also serves as the November 5th post for the Neal and Henry Promptathon</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I Saw the Future Staring Back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [quicsilveur](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=quicsilveur).



> Gift created for quicsilveur on tumblr for the Nealfire Exchange
> 
> Prompt: I’d really love my gift to be about Neal and Henry. I love surprises so I’m lenient, but I’d love love a fic or art of them convincing Rumple to sword fight with them using Henry’s wooden swords. Ideally Swanfire would be a background thing that exists if this ends up being a fic, but not a main focus. I just really wanna see some cute family bonding. :)

Nothing, Neal mused, was better than this. His whole life long he'd been searching for fulfillment and finally he'd found it, though in the most unexpected way. Henry was laughing at something he'd said, walking beside him at an easy gait. His son's arm swung at his side, wooden sword clasped in hand. Neal felt his smile widen.

_Beautiful_. _My son._

Henry's words broke through Neal's thoughts.

"... told Mom and Grandma about that one time when I'd accidentally put the paprika on my hot chocolate instead of the cinnamon. So of course she and Grandma had to tease me about it. Grandma made me a hot chocolate the next day, but when I walked into the kitchen, Mom was putting the paprika back into the cabinet, so I thought they were trying to prank me!"

Neal's laugh mingled with Henry's in perfect tonality, his son's still childlike timbre mixed with his own full-bodied chuckles. It could have been pouring rain, Neal knew, and he wouldn't have cared.  The sun was in fact shining as they walked along the path that would eventually lead them to the Pawn Shop. Around eleven Neal had picked Henry up for lunch, and they'd enjoyed a picnic at the park before packing up and heading off for ice cream. And ice cream of course had devolved into talk of sword fighting. One thing Neal had learned quite quickly about Henry was that he'd become completely enamored with the idea of sword fighting. The knowledge that his son was a prince aside, Neal had scrounged his brain for a good reason to discourage the excitable preteen, but none had come to him. It was the perfect excuse to spend quality time with Henry, something that Neal coveted with a passion. Swordplay also happened to be one area of study with which he was at least mildly familiar. Living in Neverland lent itself to the study of certain skills, and Neal hadn't wasted any time in learning. Often, when he was lonely, and thinking about escaping the cursed island, he had happened upon the ironically unfunny thought that, despite everything that his Father had done to keep him from having to use a sword, it had become a necessary tool for his survival anyways.

His Father. Neal sighed gently, listening to Henry prattle on about all the times he'd spent getting to know Emma.

His Father was of course the desired object of their father/son outing to the Pawn Shop. When Neal had first agreed to the outing, he received the anticipated jubilance, and accepted gratefully the tight hug Henry gave him. But what he hadn't expected was the question that left Henry's mouth immediately after he'd released his dad from the hug.

"Can we go ask Grandpa Gold if he wants to come with us when we sword fight?"

"Um, sure?" Neal had easily relented. Anything for his son's sake. No matter how big or small.

Father and Son stopped in front of the shop door, staring identically through the window. Henry glanced up at his dad. Neal looked down.

"Ready to go in?" The bright eyes staring back at him were the same shape as Emma's and the simple reminder took Neal's breath away. This was their son.

"Ready as I'll ever be kiddo," He put his hand on Henry's shoulder and they stepped forwards. Neal pushed open the door, and Henry sidled inside, the bell ringing overhead.

"Grandpa Gold!" He called out, peering around the shop. From the backroom, Neal heard the telltale thump of his father's cane. A small frown line on Neal's forehead was the only outward indication that he'd caught the faint sound. As Rumplestiltskin came into view, Neal banished the unbidden and old memories back to the corner where he'd kept them all the long years.

"Henry, Bae, what a pleasant surprise." His father's tone was warm and gentle. Encouraged, Neal took a few more steps into the room.

"Henry's got a question for you, Pop," Not one to be outdone, Henry spoke his piece before his Grandfather could respond.

"D'you wanna come swordfight with me and Dad in the park? Gramps got me these really cool wooden ones a while back. And Dad's going to give me some lessons! Did you know that Dad can swordfight? It's pretty cool, Dad," Henry returned his attention to Neal.

"Thanks Henry," He smiled, feeling warm inside. Rumplestiltskin looked between the duo, fondly

"I didn't know that Henry, to be perfectly honest. But I would love to come and watch you. I think I'll not participate, but thank you for asking,"

Henry shrugged. "Alright! Can we go now?" He asked, looking around the shop. "If you aren't busy I mean..."

"Henry!" Neal said with mock offense. "Don't be too hard on your Grandpa there. Just because no one's here doesn't mean he isn't occupied," He chanced a look at his father, and was surprised by the kindness he saw.

"I think a break would be very nice Henry. Thank you for inviting me,"

It was a beautiful day, so Rumple only threw on a light coat before following his son and grandson out the door. He walked a step or two behind them, Neal noted, and he could feel the scrutinizing eyes fixed upon his back. Things were still strained between them, and if Neal was being perfectly honest with himself, they probably always would be, to an extent. Thoughts of strained relationships led Neal to Emma. Ultimately, everything led back to Emma. Thoughts of his father, thoughts of Henry, thoughts of his birthplace, hell even thoughts of Tamara. He sighed, curling his arm more tightly around Henry's shoulder, guiding him as they walked. Any excuse to be close to the boy who was his flesh and blood. The boy he loved with everything he had. The boy with Emma's wide-eyed innocence, bright and full of life, just like hers had been, once upon a time, before _he_ had happened to them. And now, August was a little boy who couldn't remember anything at all, certainly nothing that would endear him to Emma again.

They got closer to the park, and Henry grabbed Neal's hand pulling him forward in excitement.

"Watch us Grandpa Gold!" He shouted, gleeful. The boy threw his father one of the swords. Neal caught it deftly, swinging it with expert ease. It was a familiar weight in his hand. Old memories threatened to break through the damn that he'd spent hundreds of years creating, but he fixed the cracks with thoughts of Henry's smile and Emma's eyes. They filled the holes in his heart in ways nothing else could.

From the corner of his eye, Neal saw his father standing on the boardwalk, watching them from a distance with a calculating gaze. Instead of dwelling, he took a deep breath and circled his son, minding his footwork.

"Ready, Henry?" He queried. The thrill that ran through him at the smile he received was invigorating.

"Ready, Dad!" They surged forward parrying at each other playfully. He lost himself in the dance, the new memories he was building slowly taking the place of the bad ones. Forever, Neal knew, would he associate swordplay with this day, and never again with the cursed island of his boyhood.  They jumped around, hopping on and off the picnic table, laughing and smiling. It had been forever since he'd felt so carefree.

Eventually, they both tired, with Neal begging stalemate first, declaring Henry, with his boundless energy, to be the winner.  Neal took Henry's sword and they walked over to where Rumplestiltskin was standing

"Well done Henry," He nodded at his grandson. "You're quite the swordsman. I'm sure with such tutelage, you'll be a formidable opponent," Whether or not Rumple meant David, Neal himself, or both Neal didn't know.

"What do you say we walk back to the Pawn Shop with your Granddad and then we can go do something else. You can show me the sights or something, yeah?" Neal asked his son, adamantly not looking at his father.

"Sure, that sounds good. What did my Mom want earlier Grandpa Gold? I saw you walk off with her," Henry turned his attention away from his father, who was trying to determine which Mom Henry meant. He hadn't seen anyone speaking with his father, but then, Neal had been trying to focus solely on his son.

"Regina was curious about our outing. I explained our relationship. That you are my grandson, Henry," There was a curious detachment in Rumplestiltskin's voice that Neal didn't like the sound of.

He tried to ignore it as best as he could, not letting it poison their walk back, nor the rest of the evening, which consisted of Henry showing him around Storybrooke. Eventually they had returned to the park, where they briefly met with Pinocchio before heading to the site of Henry's former Castle.

"It used to be right here. Regina was...bad. Really bad back then. Worse than she is now. I just...I just want to be happy. I want everyone to be happy! But not everyone can have things their way, and that means that someone has to get hurt. And I hate that, Dad, I hate it," Henry was staunchly trying his best to not cry, but he'd worked himself up. Neal knew the look, intimately. He'd been there many a time, not willing to admit how hurt he was feeling. Tenderly, he embraced his son, but Henry tightened the hold, desperate for contact.

"Henry, you're so good. Too good. You want so much for the people around you. But you know what? Even if it made me the most unhappy man in the world, I would do everything in my power to make sure that you were the happiest. I don't know if there is anything else I can do to make that happen, Henry, but you're my son. My son. And I love you. I love you most of anything is this world or any other. And I will always be here for you. No matter what. If you wanted me to leave here right this minute, I would do it, even though I'd miss you, even though it would hurt. Because that's what you do when you love someone,” Thoughts of his past failings flitted in his memory. “I don't get to decide for you Henry. No one does. Not Regina, not your Mom. Not anyone. So if you still love Regina, and you love your Mom too, then that's okay, even if it hurts sometimes. Because no one can tell you not to love them,"

 _Emma_. _God I still love Emma._ But he banished the thought. _Henry. Focus on Henry._ He pulled away a little, and looked down. Henry looked up at him, tears in his eyes.

"I love you, too, Dad. I love you so much! And I love both my moms. I'm still mad at Regina for everything, but I'm also mad at Mom because she kept you from me. You didn't know, but I wish you had. I...I... I think that I'd give up having grown up here, with Regina, if I could have lived with you...You and Mom,"

Neal knelt down before his son, placing his hands firmly on his shoulders. "We don't get a choice in this life, Henry, but what we make of what we're given is what defines us. I haven't made the best of what I had, even if I thought I was at the time. I'm not perfect, Henry, I'm not blameless. No one is. Sure, August didn't do anything to help your Mom and I, or you in the long run, but we can't pin our problems on others. We can’t blame them. We just have to try and do our best. We have to respect others, and above all, we have to know that even if we love them, sometimes, that isn't enough. It will never be enough, but it helps. Every little bit helps. Without love, Henry, we have nothing. Don’t let that go,”

Henry nodded, trying holding a stiff upper lip through the tears, but it started to wobble, and he threw himself forward into is father's arms. Neal felt his own tears spill over silently, but he banished them in a fit of stoicism. Eventually Henry pulled back, and rested against his dad. Minutes passed.

"You want to keep walking?" Neal asked after a while. It was growing dark, but the sunset on the water was beautiful. Peaceful.

"Sure," Henry nodded. They stood, trudging down the beach aimlessly and in relative silence.

"Sunset looks pretty cool, huh kid?"

"Yeah, pretty cool Dad," Henry bit his lip. Neal side eyed him.

"What,"

"So, does this mean that you aren't getting back together with Mom?" The look on Henry's face was heartrending, and Neal hated to see the disappointment there.

"I'm engaged, Henry. Tamara is a great person, and it wouldn't be fair to her for me to drop everything and go after your Mom. We had something great once, and I screwed it up. Besides, even if I were free to pursue your Mom, I wouldn't if she wasn't interested. She's moved on and so have I, Henry. But I will try and be as cordial with her as I can. I want what's best for you, Henry," Neal sighed. "You are my number one priority in life. Even though she kept you from me, she did it because she also believed that it was what was best for you. Generally, that's a good thing. When I left your mom, I also thought that I was doing what was best for her, and it wasn't. We can only try, Henry. That's it. We can only try,"

"And love. Don’t forget love, Dad,” Henry added. “I wish you and Mom were together," He muttered. "But I understand. I do. And I'll try, too. Do you still love her?”

Neal didn’t answer at first, but he had vowed to himself that he’d never lie to his son.

“I always have, Henry, and I always will,”

They walked companionably until they got back to the road. Henry was yawning and Neal smiled as he watched his son stumble along. Halfway to Emma's apartment, Henry was nearly sleepwalking.  Neal picked him up gently as he was able, put his son over his shoulder in the fireman's carry, and continued walking as Henry fell into slumber.

_Emma. Emma's apartment._

He took the stairs one at a time, and with each solid, firm step, he made a promise.

_I will do everything in my power to make you happy, Henry._

_I will do everything in my power to keep you safe._

_I will do everything in my power to do right by you, whatever that may be._

_I will do everything in my power to be here for you._

He knocked, and Emma opened the door. She was a vision. She'd always been a vision, no matter what she wore, or how she did her hair, or when she last slept.

"What, did you tranquilize him?" She asked.

"Oh I just gave him a couple of Bourbons," He smirked at her, temporarily allowing himself the luxury of daydream. That it was normal. That he would always be coming back to home to her. To Henry. "Kid's a real lightweight,"

"Sounds like you guys had a full day," Emma stuffed her hands in her pockets as he laid their son down.

"Spent most of it at the park," He smiled in fond memory of the day they'd had, even if what had started as light fun and bonding time had grown to be more serious. "He's getting pretty good with those wooden swords," Neal state proudly.

"I guess that makes sense, considering where his family's from," Emma avoided his eyes.

"What?" He asked, furrowing his brow.

"You ever thought about going back?"

"Back where?"

"Home," Her word seemed so simple, but to him it was more complex than he could have ever described. "Where we're from," She added, looking uncomfortable at the admission that they shared a homeland.

"Uh, I spend most of my life trying to forget that place," The dam in his head was weakening again. "I didn't exactly have a fairy-tale childhood,"

Emma rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean," But Neal's curiosity piqued.

"Why do you ask?"

"No reason," She hedged.

"August came by the park today," Neal informed her, making no attempt to mask his discomfort. "He and Henry seemed to really hit it off," He took a seat across from her at the small table

"That is gonna take a while to get used to," Emma too, seemed discomfited, but it was, Neal knew, for other reasons.

"You know, I gotta say, he's actually a lot cooler as a kid," He admitted, bitterly. "Steals less of my money," It was as close as he'd come to telling her the truth about what had happened. That he'd tried to get her the money. Tried so hard. That at least part of it wasn't his fault. That he had _never_ called the police on her.

"He'd be way cooler if he could remember what he was trying to warn us about before he got…”

“Rebooted?” He finished for her.

“ 'Storybrooke isn't safe'? Isn't safe from who?" Her anxiety about it was obvious to him who knew her better than he knew himself, even after eleven years apart. He who knew her better than she was comfortable with.

"Well, he always had a knack for being cryptic. Don't worry about it," He found her gaze, and held it, imbuing as much confidence in the look as he could. "You'll figure it out. If there's one thing I know about you, you don't stop till you find what you're looking for,"

She blinked, smiled weakly and their conversation ended there, abruptly into dissolving into silence, both familiar and painful at the same time. Emma had looked down and away, but he kept his gaze trained on her. _Unlike me,_ he thought. _I had what I was looking for, and I gambled with it. Never again._

_Never again._

Abruptly he stood, ready to leave, when Emma spoke.

“Neal?” She said softly.

“Yeah?” His voice cracked.

“I’m glad Henry has you,”

His lips were pressed into a tight line. He nodded once in acknowledgement of her words, and then swept out the door and into the night, leaving Emma to stare at the doorway where he’d stood. He wouldn’t know that she sat there for an hour, watching the spot. That she’d thought of him, and fought tears. He would never know those things. Just like Emma would never know about the conversation he’d had with Henry.

The walk back to Granny’s was still and the town empty, but it allowed Neal to try and sort through everything that had happened. Even if Emma never forgave him, Henry loved him, and that knowledge filled Neal with such joy as he had never before experienced.  But maybe, just maybe, he and Emma could be friends. He smiled. Friendship was better than nothing. And if it was good for Henry, then that was what he wanted.

Henry was his priority in life. Neal was going to be a good father, and nothing was going to stop him, not curses, not eleven years, not even death.


End file.
